


Cypress' Drabbles and Ideas

by Cypress_Leaves



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Adorable Dragon Cuddles, Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Wings, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bondage, Cross is tired of Nightmare stealing his chocolate, Cross you cant put foil in a microwave-, Dom!Ink, Dom/sub, Dominant Ink, Dragon Nightmare, Dragon dream, Dragon shifters, Ecto-Tentacles (Undertale), Edging, Feathered Wings, Flashbacks, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gags, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Sex, Killer has weird late-night thoughts, Lamia Nightmare - Freeform, Light Bondage, Multi, Other, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Sexual Abuse, Pet the nightmare to have him sleep, Romantic Soulmates, Soff Nightmare, Sub!Error, Submissive Error, Teasing, Tentacle Petting, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Undertale Skeletons in Heat, Victory Kisses, Wing Grooming, Winged Dream (mentioned), Winged Nightmare, Wolf AU, angel wolf Dream, at this point they all think its cute and a way nightmare shows affection, based off someone's hc that bleach temporarily turns nightmare's goop white, demon wolf Nightmare, dragon Nightmare hates baths, dragon Nightmare obsesses over chocolate, even if it doesnt seem to make much sense, killer the memer, let Nightmare be flustered by his boyfriends kisses, lovingly asshole boyfriends, self-deprecating thoughts, soulless little gremlin bastard man ink, surprised pikachu face, the gang and the stars teaming up to prank nightmare is always a brilliant scenario, the gang's shenanigans, wing preening, wolf Error, yes nightmare regularly threatens his boyfriends, yknow the one
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:01:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 10,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26332330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cypress_Leaves/pseuds/Cypress_Leaves
Summary: A book for me to put random drabbles, or write down ideas for drabbles/books I want to make.
Relationships: Bad Sanses Poly, Error/Dream/Nightmare, Error/Ink, Error/Ink/Blue (mentioned), Nightmare/Dream, Nightmare/Dream/Killer/Dust/Horror/Cross, Nightmare/Error/Killer/Dust/Horror/Cross, Nightmare/Killer/Dust/Horror, Nightmare/Killer/Dust/Horror/Cross
Comments: 47
Kudos: 192





	1. Introduction

Hello! Welcome to my book of random drabbles and writing ideas!

In here, you can expect to find Undertale multiverse-centric drabbles and half-assed ideas for future writings.

Warrior cats stuff _maaay_ also show up in here, dependin' on my mood.

Smut chapters will be marked with asterisks. Kinks will probably be listed in the starting notes of that chapter.

Potentially sensitive/triggering material will have warnings in the starting notes of that chapter. Be careful and responsible when reading these.

Ships will be noted in the chapter title.

Enjoy! =)

~~Midnight Secrets drabbles won't be found in here. They get their own books and get put into the Midnight Secrets AU series.~~


	2. Writing Requests

To hopefully help combat ever-fluctuating loss of motivation to write, I'm gonna be trying to take writing requests!

Simply comment any requests you have here. Preferably Undertale MV or Warriors centric. I'm unlikely to write things for other fandoms.

Be as simple or as detailed as you'd like with your request!

Be aware I won't do all requests. I will tell you if I'm not going to write your request.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requests are currently:  
>  **Open!**


	3. Nightmare+Bleach=Disaster [Bad Sanses Poly]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little scenario...  
> Nightmare and bleach don't mix well.
> 
> From Discord.
> 
> [This will probably get another chapter that is a properly written drabble~]

dream offhandedly comments on how nightmare used to really not like bleach for whatever reason (the smell of it maybe??) to ink and blue  
somehow the gang hears nightmare doesnt like bleach from ink  
the gang being the gang, they fucking _have_ to fuck with their boss/boyfriend  
the gang gets the stars in on it. dream was against the idea, but he knew he couldnt change any of the dumbasses' minds, so he agreed to it to watch over them and make sure no one gets fucking murdered  
they set up some kind of bleach prank in nightmares throne room. maybe error is using his strings to hold up a container of bleach at the ceiling and hes in charge of dripping a few drops somewhere when nm comes in the room  
ink, being a soulless bastard, waits for juuuuust the right moment when nm comes in the room...then uses a bit of paint to cut errors strings  
nm gets DOUSED in bleach  
insert demonic screeching  
insert a bit confused but really amused laughter from the gang and blue (ink is straight up cackling)  
dream facepalms  
_l a t e r, ink and blue are gone (dream forced them to leave)_  
nm is really reluctant to come out of his bathroom  
killer: aawwww cmon babe!!!!! we're sorry,,,, _puppydog whining_  
nm: **_fine_**  
nm: any of u laugh and ill break ur goddamn kneecaps  
everyone: ok (all his boyfriends are used to these kinda threats, dream just goes along with all of them nonchalantly going "ok")  
...  
horror: wait why would we-  
nm exits bathroom  
nms goop is a l l w h i t e  
stunned silence. killer most definitely, after a few seconds, does the surprised pikachu face, and it sets off a chain reaction of **_LAUGHTER_** from dust, then error, then cross, then horror, then killer, and even dream  
nm has the most betrayed look on his face as he stares at all his asshole boyfriends  
then he notices dream  
"what the fUCK-"


	4. Nightmare-Flavored Angst [Bad Sanses Poly]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some Nightmare-centric angst and hurt/comfort with his 5 dumbasses he calls boyfriends.
> 
> !TRIGGER WARNINGS!: Allusions to rape, bullying, panic attack.  
> There are some less prominent things too that could potentially count as triggering. Be careful when reading! If there is anything you notice that should be in the trigger warnings, please tell me!

**"I'm not going to sleep."** Nightmare crossed his arms over his chest as Killer and Horror worked together to carry him out of the library, moving toward the living room.

"Yes you are!~" Killer sang-song cheerily, grinning up at the gang's boss-slash-boyfriend. "Even if it takes you hours to fall asleep. We have everything planned out."

Horror chimed in gruffly, "We heard from Error you ain't slept in ov'r a hundred years, Boss. That probably ain't healthy."

**"I don't _need_ to sleep. It's unnecessary and a waste of time."**

"It's relaxing, plus you need to take a break from all this work!" Killer huffed.

Nightmare groaned and remained silent the rest of the way to the living room, glaring up defiantly at the ceiling.

When he was finally put down, he didn't even get a chance to escape before Cross shot forward, gripping tightly onto his wrist and pulling him into the room.

From the looks of it, the gang had set up some kind of pillow fort in front of the TV. A mattress was placed on the floor, covered with black and gray blankets. Large pillows that suspiciously looked like the cushions from the couch were set up on three sides of the mattress, and a big, dark blue blanket was draped over the whole thing. Dust and Error were already laying back inside the fort, and they both perked up when Cross dragged Nightmare in. Dust grinned and cheered when his gaze landed on the goopy skeleton. Nightmare gave him a harsh glare, then took a few moments to give all his idiots the same look.

**"Whatever you guys have in mind isn't going to end up working."**

"We doubt that," Killer responded, crawling into the fort and draping himself atop Nightmare, skull resting on his chest. Cross scooted closer, tucking himself against Nightmare's opposite side. In no time at all, Nightmare found himself trapped between everybody - even Error, though the destroyer was wrapped up in a small blanket to help limit direct bone-to-bone contact.

**"I hate you all,"** Nightmare grumbled as he let his head drop down.

"Love you too!" Killer, Cross, and Dust said without missing a beat.

The lights were switched off with the use of Dust's magic and the TV was turned on. The volume was set low enough so it was simply white noise - one would have to focus hard to distinguish the different sounds.

Fully aware he wouldn't be getting out of this situation any time soon, Nightmare closed his eye socket and let himself relax after a bit of squirming to make sure he wasn't laying on his tentacles. After a while, Killer shifted about and raised an arm, smoothing his hand over the top of Nightmare's skull and slowly petting.

Nightmare relaxed further, and gradually found himself slipping away into darkness.

###### 

_"Worthless demon."_

_"Rot in hell!"_

_"Nobody likes you."_

_"Good for nothing freak!"_

_"Everyone would be better off without you."_

_Such phrases were thrown at Nightmare as he lay curled up in a protective ball on his side, arms raised to protect his skull. He begged and cried and pleaded for the beatings to stop, but they never did - legs kicked, hands punched, a few of his bullies even grabbed nearby stones to throw at him._

_Suddenly, everything halted._

_Deliriously, he hoped they had gotten bored of him and left him alone._

_Maybe Dream had found him and would protect him..._

_It took him several moments, swimming in and out of awareness, for him to be able to hear again._

_Whispering..._

_Scudding..._

_Shuffling, like... clothes being removed..._

_Nightmare was about to move his arms to see what was happening when hands wrapped around his ankles and yanked. He yelped as he was dragged, shirt riding up his frame. He tried to pull his legs to his body, flip onto his stomach and dig his hands into the ground. Nothing worked - he kept being dragged along._

_Seconds later, he stopped, but the hands didn't move from his ankles. They gripped tighter as more hands and furry paws descended on his body, peeling and tearing off his clothes, and he sobbed hysterically as he realized what they were about to do to him -_

###### 

He jolted, and the first thing he noticed was _how much he was being touched._ He kicked out, scrambling backward, away from the _hands that touched, probed, pulled off his clothes - bodies that lay atop him, grunted, cursed his existence as they brought him pain, fear, panic, humiliation -_

It took him a while to notice he was crying and hyperventilating, and even longer to start realizing his surroundings, seeing not the humans and monsters that used to assault him but the skeletons he called his boyfriends, hearing not the horrid gruntings and insults but the concerned murmurs of his name.

With a stuttering sob, he tucked in his skull, forehead dropping onto his knees - he realized then he'd curled up into the same instinctual ball he used to form all those years ago. He squeezed his eye socket shut, but instead of darkness, he saw flashes of faces, splatters of white liquid and colored magic - 

"Nightmare."

The voice was soft, gentle, yet firm. He latched onto the sound of that voice, trying to dispel the lingering flashbacks.

"Breathe," the voice - some distant part of his mind registered it as Dust - instructed. Obediently _\- always obedient, pliant, lest they hurt him more -_ he sucked in air, feeling his body tremble as he did, and tried his best to let it out calmly. "Good, good. Keep breathing with me, okay? In, and out. In, and out. You're okay. You're safe. You're here with us, Nightmare." Dust kept murmuring gentle reassurances, and when Nightmare seemed calmer, he shuffled closer, placing a tentative hand on the goopy skeleton's arm. Nightmare shuddered, but he didn't flinch away or start panicking again, so Dust moved even closer, wrapping his arms around him in a hug.

It was gentle, comforting, loving. Not at all like the violating grips of his past bullies. Another shudder racked his frame and he pushed closer. Unconsciously, a tentacle curled around Dust, and the other three reached out, finding his other boyfriends and pulling them closer. Getting the hint, Cross was the first to move forward and embrace Nightmare; Killer, Horror, and Error following.

In the safe hold of his gang, Nightmare was able to calm down completely.

**"S- sorry,"** he managed to force out, voice sounding weak and strained.

**_"No,"_** Error growled. **_"Don't you fucking dare apologize."_**

"'S not your fault, Boss," Horror grumbled softly.

"We probably should've known you'd - heh - get some nightmares," Killer murmured. "We're the ones who're sorry."

Nightmare glanced up and met the gazes of each skeleton. Then, he smiled weakly.

**"It isn't any of your faults, either."** He paused, looking over them all once more. **"...I love you all."**

"We love you too," Cross piped up. The others nodded.

With a content sigh, Nightmare let himself relax in the embrace of the skeletons he loved, his past temporarily forgotten.


	5. ** Tiny Smut Thing [Errink]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some tiny smut thing I wrote on my phone like a month ago. It came from a prompt, which is why the first line is bolded and underlined.  
> Kinks: Dom/sub (Dom!Ink, Sub!Error), heat, implied edging, bondage, gagged (though not mentioned in the writing, it is part of the scene)

**"Look at you, stretched out and trembling. . ."**

A rush of heat slid through Error's forcibly spread body, coalescing around the dark blue magic formed around his pelvis. A whimper built up in his throat as Ink trailed his fingers up Error's legs and circled them around the pussy he'd formed. He jerked in the ropes keeping his legs spread and his body down on the bed.

Ink glanced up, meeting Error's eyelights with his own (which had changed shape into two shivering, pink souls after he'd drank some pink paint at the start of Error's heat an hour ago). "Getting a little desperate, hmm?" he asked with a saccharine lilt to his voice, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. Error struggled to properly glare at the artist through the layers of heat blanketing his mind, prompting a small laugh from Ink.

"I do suppose it'd be mean to keep you waiting any longer, huh Error?"


	6. Tentacle Pets [Bad Sanses Poly]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Floof!!! Fluffy floof!  
> This is a Bad Sanses poly chapter, but it's written as primarily Crossmare.

Lately, Cross had been taking an interest in Nightmare's tentacles - no, not in that way - and he was pretty sure it was obvious.

He lay draped over Killer and Dust's laps, not-so-discreetly eyeing the lazily flicking tendrils behind the lord of negativity, who was sat in a nearby chair, reading a book. Cross tilted his skull slightly, gaze trailing along the length of one tentacle, really taking the time to note the way it moved. They kind of reminded him of a cat's tail - and that thought opened up a whole new can of worms.

_Can he feel them? If they are like cat's tails, does- does that mean I could pet them? Would Nightmare like them being pet?_

Cross decided he would need to test his new rapidly-forming theories.

###### 

"Nightmare? Can you feel your tentacles?"

The goopy skeleton looked up from his paperwork, staring incredulously at Cross. **"...You distract me from my work to ask me _that?_ "**

Cross shifted his weight slightly. "Um. ..yes?"

Nightmare blinked. Then blinked again.

**"Yes, I can."**

"Okay," Cross replied simply, then left the room.

###### 

What better time to test his Nightmare-tentacle-petting theory than one of the nights everyone spent cuddling?

Cross and Nightmare were situated in the middle of the gang's cuddle-pile. Nightmare was laying on his stomach, arms folded beneath his head, eye socket closed. His tentacles were curled up loosely on his back, in a very convenient position for Cross to try his petting theory. Slowly, he shifted around and raised an arm toward Nightmare's back. He brushed the tips of his phalanges over the tentacle nearest to him. The appendage stiffened for a moment and Nightmare opened his eye, turning his head to look at Cross questioningly. Cross didn't meet his gaze, instead focusing on the tentacle he was touching. Carefully, he dragged his fingers down its length, observing the way the goop moved like really thickened slime. When he moved his hand up the tendril, it quivered, and the tip of it curled around his wrist and arm up to his elbow, settling there like a snake.

Cross glanced over at Nightmare's face to see his socket half-lidded, his features softened in relaxation. Cross' mouth twitched upwards in a small smile and he kept stroking the tentacle until he fell asleep.

###### 

**"You aren't developing a tentacle fetish, are you?"** Nightmare asked bluntly. Cross' face erupted with a lavender blush.

"N-no! No, I'm not, I'm just, curious?"

Nightmare remained silent for a few moments, staring at the monochrome skeleton long enough for him to start nervously squirming. Then, he smirked. **"Well, to answer your question, most times I have full control over my extra limbs. They rarely do their own thing. The last time that was -"** He cut himself off suddenly, and Cross was surprised to see the faintest hint of turquoise on his cheekbones. Nightmare cleared his throat sharply, half-heartedly glaring at Cross. **"It was two days ago when you were, uh, petting them."**

Cross, suddenly, felt the distinct, and rather uncharacteristic, urge to giggle. That said something - _many_ somethings. If the fact he'd pet Nightmare's tentacles was enough to fluster the goopy skeleton enough to make him _blush_ , then Cross held a lot of potential power.

"Okay," he said simply, a big grin on his face as he spun around and left the room.

###### 

Cross would never forget the moment he discovered what he liked to call, _the Magic Petting Spot._

He'd woken up to find he and Nightmare were alone in their bedroom. (Killer told him later the gang had all woken up early to plan a special surprise for Nightmare, and teased Cross on the fact he'd slept so heavily none of them were able to wake him up. Cross decided to ignore the teasing in favor of committing to memory Killer's face when Cross told him of his discovery of the Magic Petting Spot.)

Nightmare still looked half-asleep. Cross had learned before that a tired Nightmare was more receptive to his tentacles being pet. Grinning, he scooted closer to the goopy skeleton, placing his hand a few inches away from the base of a tentacle and rubbing.

Nightmare's reaction was uncharacteristic and wildly different from all the other times Cross had managed to pet his tentacles. Instead of just relaxing, he practically _melted_ at the touch, whole body going slack as a loud rumbling noise filled the room. Cross stared for several seconds, his hand stilling for a moment.

_Holy shit._

_Holy shit!_

_Is he **purring?!**_

He snapped out of his overwhelming excitement when Nightmare made a low grumbling sound, shifting his weight ever so slightly to push back against Cross' hand. Cross blinked, shook his head, and kept rubbing the tentacle. The appendage swished happily in his hold. Cross found himself grinning as he tested out the same spot on the other three tentacles, getting the same reaction out of each - happy swishing and a shit-ton of loud purring. A quick look up revealed Nightmare looking absolutely _blissed out_ , eye socket half-lidded and a small smile on his face.

_Holy. Shit._

_I'm totally the luckiest skeleton alive right now._


	7. Whirlwinds of Divinity [Errordreammare]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A chapter about a new AU I've been writing called Whirlwinds of Divinity.
> 
> It's focused on Error, Nightmare, and Dream. They are wolves in this. Nightmare is a demon, and Dream is an angel.

Error startled awake. 

For a moment, he was confused. He'd been having a nice, dreamless sleep. There weren't any particular sounds he'd heard that would have made him wake up. Why did he startle to full consciousness so suddenly?

Then he noticed a strange feeling within him.

It seemed to be located in his chest. Closing his eyes, he turned his attention inwards.

The feeling was odd, in the fact he was easily able to scope it out and actually tell it had solid shape. Which was strange, in and of itself, because this was a _feeling_. In his _body_.

It seemed spherical, and had a distinct outer layer that he knew - somehow - was smooth and black. Probing past this layer revealed the inside was made up of feelings - actual feelings, that is, emotions, that very distinctly were not his own.

He paused to wonder _What the actual fuck_ , then analyzed the emotions.

Dizziness, confusion, annoyance.

Once more, Error paused and wondered _What the **fuck.**_

Suddenly, there was a sharp spike of dreaded realization in the emotions of the ball in his chest - _what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck_ \- and Error found he instinctually followed the link from the chest-sphere to somewhere just a few paces to his left. He knew the emotions came from there, which was strange to know, because he didn't actually know any of _what the fuck was happening._

He opened his eyes and turned his brown gaze to his left, where a black and silver-gray wolf was sitting up. Looking closer at the new canine, he noticed their coat was.. _odd_ \- it looked to have a smokey texture to it.

The wolf's head swiveled toward him, and Error found himself caught in their silver gaze. As the two stared at each other, the black wolf's smokey textures shifted and coalesced around their skull. Two smooth black horns emerged from their forehead, ending in sharp points that looked like they could stab through anything.

**"Oh, _fuck_ ,"** the horned wolf snarled, though Error knew from the emotions in his _fucking chest-sphere **WHAT THE FUCK**_ that the aggressive sound wasn't actually aimed in, well, aggression toward him.

Moving slowly, Error sat up, eyeing the horned wolf who he could tell was a male - and he wasn't the type to come to conclusions like that, he just knew from the _weird-ass chest-sphere_ this wolf identified as male.

_**"So uh. Who are you? And... what the fuck?"** _

And thus marked the start of the day Error found himself soulbonded to a literal demon.

###### 

_**"So what's up with the weird chest-sphere thing?"** _

Nightmare paused, turning his head to look at Error.

Then, he snorted. **"Well, that's certainly a unique thing to call them. By the way, I'd recommend you keep calling it that, the real name is _way_ too overcomplicated for a mortal to understand easily."**

_**"What is its real name?"** _

**"Lupithafoisius,"** Nightmare stated, the word rolling off his tongue smoothly like butter. No hesitation, no stumbling.

Error was surprised, to say the least.

Because, yeah, that was really fuckin' overcomplicated.

'Chest-sphere' was much easier.

_**"Wow. Okay."** _

After further prompting, Nightmare proceeded to explain their purpose.

###### 

"Nightmare?"

Both said demon and Error turned toward the sound of the voice - Error more calmly, while Nightmare whirled around so quick it was a miracle he didn't lose his footing.

**"Shit!"** the demon growled, alarm flashing in Error's chest-sphere.

_**"Who is that?"**_ Error asked, knowing Nightmare must know the owner of the voice from his reaction. Plus the chest-sphere. That thing was very convenient for figuring out things relating to his demon soulmate.

**"My brother,** " Nightmare replied. **"He must be looking for me since I've been inactive since I found you."**

_**"Huh."**_ Error turned his head toward the demon. _**"So we gonna go to him? Let him find us?"**_

Nightmare's lip curled, baring his sharp teeth. **"If I had it my way, we would never have to come into contact with him. But with him so close now, he can sense me. No point in hiding from him."**

As if on cue, the voice rang out again, much closer this time. "Nightmare!"

**"Aaand he's seen us,"** Nightmare grumbled, and right after, an orange-cream wolf came running over the nearby hill. Resigning himself to his fate, Nightmare sat back on his haunches while Error stared at the approaching canine.

_**"He is very bright, not at all like a demon,"**_ he noted, then blinked. Several times. _**"Holy shit, he's glowing."**_

**"He's an angel,"** Nightmare said. **"Don't ask how a purebred angel is related to a purebred demon, even we don't know."**

Error could tell the exact moment Nightmare's angel brother laid eyes on him.

Mostly because the experience was nearly the exact same as when he woke up from Nightmare finding him.

His whole body jolted, and since he was now more in tune with the feeling of the chest-sphere from Nightmare, he noticed immediately when he felt a second come into existence, permanently linking him to the angel.

This one's outer layer was smooth like Nightmare's, but instead of being black, it was colored a bright, shining gold.

_**"Holy shit,"**_ Error gasped, at the same time Nightmare let out a loud snarl, sensing his brother's sphere pop up next to his.

**"Are you FUCKING KIDDING ME?!"**

The angel stumbled, then kept running nearly twice as fast to the pair.

**"What the FUCK, Dream?!"** Nightmare snapped, even though he knew full well an angel had no control over their soulbonds the same way demons had no control over it.

Really, he was just pissed at this new development and needed to take his anger out on something, but he couldn't hurt or snap at Error.

Seconds later, the angel skidded to a halt right in front of Error.

"You-" he paused, panting. "You're my soulmate."

_**"Apparently."**_ Error took a moment to probe into Dream's chest-sphere, learning what he could of his new angel soulmate. _ **"I'm Nightmare's too."**_

Dream's golden eyes - _oh my god they're literally fucking shining_ \- widened comically and he turned to face his brother so fast he stumbled, then regained his balance in the blink of an eye.

"Nightmare!" he gasped. "Th-this is why you've been missing!"

Nightmare growled in response.

###### 

Error had just finished his first hunt with Nightmare and his new soulmate, Dream the angel. Who was somehow the brother to Nightmare. He most definitely questioned this heavily, because it didn't really make sense - Dream's a full-blooded, 100% angel while Nightmare's a full-blooded, 100% demon - but gave up in the end because he could find no logic in any possible explanation.

Anyway.

They'd just finished their first group hunt together. It was a bit funny how easily the elk herd startled just from the mere presence of the two divine creatures.

It was even funnier how shitty said two divine creatures were at hunting.

Nightmare, at least, did a better job.

Something told Error Dream probably had never hunted elk before. Or left whatever place angels like him stayed at.

Oh wait, he knew what that 'something' was. It was Dream's chest-sphere. Like he's thought many a time before, these chest-spheres were really convenient for knowing these kinds of things.

Despite his soulmates' terrible hunting skills - and even worse _teamwork_ hunting skills -, the kill was one of the easiest kills ever, to Error. Numbers did help, even if they did a shitty job.

Now with a fresh elk carcass to feast on and last him some time (since he had a feeling his soulmates wouldn't let anything drive them off the food), he entertained himself by chewing on one of the legs of the elk as he watched the demon and angel.

From what he knew, neither of them actually had a need to eat, since in the days he'd spent alone with Nightmare, he'd never witnessed the demon eat.

Regardless, Nightmare seemed to be showing the behaviors of a dominant puppy putting his younger siblings in place. _Is Dream the younger sibling?_ A quick check into the two chest-spheres revealed the answer was 'Yes'.

Whenever Dream tried to approach the carcass, Nightmare would snarl and swat at him until the angel backed off, the smokeyness of his fur shifting and spinning faster, showing off his agitation. After several thwarted attempts, Dream finally huffed and laid down, glaring at his brother with his glowing golden eyes. Error wondered briefly if Dream's glowing intensified or if his eyes were playing tricks on him.

"Why are you even guarding it? I helped kill it!"

**"Ha!"** Nightmare barked out a laugh. **"You hardly gave it any _nips, Silylte_."**

Something about that name seemed to make Dream's gaze harden and his fur bristle.

"You didn't do much better than I did, _Enynexel_."

**"Oh, fuck off,"** Nightmare snapped. **"At least I _did_ do better than you."**

Dream mumbled something sounding suspiciously similar to 'arrogant demon'. Nightmare definitely heard his grumble, but he just puffed his chest out and curled his lips in a nasty smirk. Dream snorted.

They fell into a sort of silence, the only sounds that of Error's teeth scraping against bone.


	8. Three Shorts [Bad Sanses Poly]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three different short stories with the Bad Sanses Poly (minus Error). All fluffs and funny stuff.

Killer stared blankly at the plate one of his boyfriends was about to put in the microwave.

“Babe,” he said, slowly, as he craned his neck to look at Cross, who hummed in response. “Babe,” he repeated. “You’re gonna put this in the microwave?”

“Uh, yeah?” Cross answered, his voice’s pitch tipping upward in confusion. He looked at the paper plate, peeling back some of the aluminum foil to check that it was, indeed, the burrito inside. After confirming that, he tucked the foil down again. “Yeah.”

Killer was silent for a moment. Then he snorted, shrugged his shoulders, and stepped back. “Okay.”

_ Nightmare will be absolutely furious,  _ Killer thought with an inward snicker.

When Nightmare returned to the castle, it was to the smell of something burning and Dust and Horror talking sharply to Killer and Cross. The king gazed at them for a few seconds before clearing his throat. Cross jumped, Killer tried to hide a grin, and Dust and Horror spun around to face him.

“Please, please deal with these idiots,” Dust whined.

“They broke our microwave,” Horror added before the two of them teleported away to escape Nightmare’s inevitable anger.

Nightmare blinked and leveled an unimpressed stare on his boyfriends.

**“You** **_what_ ** **.”**

“I didn’t know you can’t put aluminum foil in a microwave!” Cross tried to defend himself. This, of course, just led to Nightmare being  _ even more  _ unimpressed.

**“You what.”**

“Killer didn’t even try to tell me!”

Nightmare turned his glare to the aforementioned skeleton.

“In my defense, it was hilarious.”

“Hey!”

**“How in the void am I actually dating two imbeciles.”**

Sometimes, Nightmare really regretted letting all of his boyfriends sleep in his bed.

Because usually, it was very late at night. And Killer had a knack for being incredibly annoying at 3 a.m.

“Beds are like wireless chargers for us…”

“We cut down bird’s houses to make birdhouses.”

“If you work on a farm and your job is to take care of the chickens, then you’re a chicken tender.”

“Oh my stars,  _ please shut up _ ,” Cross whined, voice slurred with sleep.

“...”

“You don’t actually wash your hands,” Killer whispered. “They wash each other while you stand there watching them like a creep.”

“I will throw you outside if you don’t stop talking,” Horror grumbled.

Killer was silent for a few minutes. The others all sighed and got themselves comfortable again, ready to fall asleep.

“The word ‘nun’ is just the letter ‘n’ doing a cartwheel.”

Nightmare sat up, took his pillow, and smacked Killer in the face with it.

Nightmare stood over his brother, tentacles sharpened and curled over his shoulders, poised to strike.

**“Give up, Dream,”** he chuckled mockingly.  **“It’s obvious you’ve lost this battle.”**

Dream panted and stared up at him, expression conflicted. He looked like he was about to say something, but he stopped and stared behind Nightmare. Eye narrowing, the king turned in time to see Dust approaching.

**“What are you -”** He cut off with a very uncharacteristic squeak when Dust swung an arm around Nightmare’s shoulders and pressed a kiss to his skull. Bright cyan illuminated his cheeks as he glared up at Dust, vehemently  _ not  _ looking at his brother.  **“Wh-what the fuck was that for?”** he demanded.

Dust grinned. “A victory kiss.”

Killer’s head shot up, and he immediately abandoned his fight with Blue. “What?! Are we kissing Nightmare?”

**“No!”** Nightmare snapped at the same time Dust said, “Yes!”

“Wait, what?” Horror piped up, turning away from Ink. Cross, at his side, looked over at his boyfriends too.

“We’re kissing Nightmare?” he asked.

**“No!”** Nightmare huffed grouchily.

“Yes!” every single one of his boyfriends argued back, abandoning the Stars and quickly making their way to the goopy skeleton.

Dream stared, dumbfounded, as the Gang advanced on their ‘cold-hearted, merciless, sadistic’ leader, who currently represented the visage of a pouting child: arms crossed over his chest and a frown on his blush-brightened face. Dream inched his way backward, and once he was a safe distance away, he stood up. Blue and Ink slowly walked over to him, staring at their enemies, who had begun ignoring the whole rest of the world in favor of flustering Nightmare with hugs and kisses.

_ “Oh my god,”  _ Ink whispered, his eye-lights a yellow star and a green exclamation mark.

“This is adorable,” Blue murmured.

Carefully, Dream cleared his throat. Nightmare, stuck in the middle of a group hug and trying his best to ignore Killer and Horror kissing the top of his skull, stared at the Stars with a murderous expression. Had he not been stuck, they probably would’ve been near-dead by now.

“Maybe we should leave,” Dream whispered.

_ “But I wanna see this,”  _ Ink whined.

**“If you idiots have any common sense,”** Nightmare snarled, **“then you’ll leave and resign yourselves to never having seen anything.”**


	9. Winged Nightmare [Bad Sanses Poly]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am much too weak for characters with wings, so of course my natural instinct is to project this onto who is pretty much my favorite skeleton at this point.  
> It's all some nice fluff ;w;

It was an indisputable fact that Nightmare had a specific reputation. King of Negativity; Lord of Darkness and Despair; such titles were close to him, defined who he was. So it made sense that he would make secrets out of the things that could possibly influence his reputation.

One such secret was two extra appendages, located just on the inner edges of his scapular bones, always kept held down with the use of his tentacles and covered underneath his hoodie.

His wings.

Nightmare, admittedly, had little that could actually ruin his reputation. The main thing would probably be the relationship between him and his Gang, since if it was known he had four boyfriends and a rather soft side, his fearsomeness in the eyes of the outside world would certainly suffer.

His wings, in comparison, wouldn’t be such a problem, had it not been for their appearance.

Dark membraned wings, something more similar to a bat or a demon, would be preferred. If that were the case, he would gladly show off his wings just like he showed off his four tentacles.

However, in reality, his wings were rather on the small side, and they were feathered. To make matters worse, they were  _ soft _ .

The feathers themselves were a dark violet, nearly black color. Each individual feather had speckles of silver and lavender. Unlike the rest of his body, they’d hardly changed after consuming the negative apples; the only difference was that they were now slightly bigger and had the silver speckles. After several years, they’d also adapted to be somewhat waterproof. Most kinds of liquids slid easily off of their surface. This happened to extend to the goop covering his body as well; the material never stuck to the feathers or the magical ecto-skin underneath.

A problem he had quickly discovered with his wings was that they were rather sensitive. This didn’t pair well with the fact they were always kept in a stiff, uncomfortable position.

In short, they hurt like a  _ bitch _ . It didn’t help how he already had back pain to deal with because of his tentacles.

When the pain in his wings got to be too much (and then some - it only takes a few days for the pain to be too intense for his liking, but he always waited at least a week longer from this point), he would stretch them out during a time that was commonly his “alone time”. This just so happened to be late at night.

Usually, this worked out perfectly for him: most nights he was alone in his office, working on paperwork. Unfortunately, he wasn’t always so lucky. Since he’d officially started dating his Gang, there tended to be several dedicated cuddle nights. A time he may have been planning to let his wings be exposed would be one of these cuddle nights, and while he certainly didn’t mind the chance to relax and spend time with his boyfriends, this also meant there were extra days where he had to deal with the pain in his wings.

And this night happened to be one of them, apparently. This, he discovered when Horror barged into his office and picked him up from his desk. He didn’t even bother fighting back as he was carried out of his office and to his bedroom. Unless he was looking to seriously injure Horror, a repulsive thought, there wasn’t much the smallest skeleton in the castle could do against the giant, no matter how gentle Horror was. There was the added fact that most of his boyfriends had even learned workarounds to subdue him when he was feeling particularly agitated. (He both loathed  _ and  _ loved the Magic Petting Spot that Cross had discovered.)

Nightmare grunted softly when he was deposited on his bed next to Cross and Dust. Despite Horror’s careful handling, each little movement connecting to his back seemed to cause the pain in his wings to flare. Sliding down onto his stomach and cushioning his skull with his arms, Nightmare, for once, admitted something to himself.

Perhaps he’d waited too long this time to stretch his wings.

He itched to take his hoodie off and spread his troublesome appendages for several hours, but he knew he couldn’t now. Regardless, they kept twitching, which really didn’t help with the pain.

Distracted as he was, he didn’t even notice Killer sidling up to him until the monster laid a hand on Nightmare’s spine, just beneath his tentacles. He stiffened, for a moment; then Killer started to move his hand in gentle, rhythmic circles, and the negative spirit deflated near instantly.

“Ya’ve got that look on your face when your back’s bothering you,” Killer murmured against the side of Nightmare’s skull. “So we gonna help you out some, yeah?”

Rather than verbal responses from the rest of their boyfriends, the bed shifted as three more skeletons moved closer to sit in a semi-circle around the king.

Phalanges that Nightmare easily recognized as Cross’s slid over the slimy surface of one of his tentacles, probing gently into the protective covering as they went along, turning Nightmare’s mind to a contented muddle.

Normally, Nightmare wouldn’t willingly let anybody touch his back for the fact that enough exploration could lead to one’s discovery of his wings; but right now, he was honestly feeling quite tired, and the combined ministrations of all of his boyfriends was making it hard to think straight. Hell, there was even some irrational part of his mind perking up that wanted them to help spread and preen his wings.

Nightmare sighed and closed his socket, his drifting attention loosely focusing on the fingers lovingly working around his spine: Cross lightly pushing into and petting his tentacles, Killer rubbing his spine, Horror massaging his shoulders, and Dust lightly kneading at his neck. Someone - it sounded like Killer - murmured something, but Nightmare couldn’t focus enough to make out the words. A soft huff left his mouth as the hands on his shoulders and neck moved away, only to feel them trace along his arms.

A nudge to his side had him shifting his weight away. He felt someone pull down the zipper of his hoodie and begin pushing it off over his shoulder. Unaware of himself as he was in his contented state, he didn’t put up any fight as the clothing was fully removed. Before any of the Gang could get back to work petting and massaging him, the negative spirit uncurled the smaller tentacles used to keep his wings pinned down. The sudden drafts of air against the sensitive appendages had them quivering violently, sending jolts of pain down his spine, in tune with the quiet gasps from above his head.

_ Wait, what. _

Blinking several times to ground himself, Nightmare lifted his skull from his arms, craning his neck to peer behind himself.

**“Fuck,”** he groaned lowly at the sight of his feathered wings completely exposed to his boyfriends.

“You have wings,” Dust said slowly, needlessly stating the obvious. “Like Dream.”

**“Shut up,”** Nightmare retorted, no real bite in the words. He was much too focused on the fact that the aches and needle-pricking sensations in his wings had seemingly tripled, now that they weren’t being held down anymore. He couldn’t stop the full-body flinch at one particular stabbing feeling, nor could he reasonably hide the natural reaction. That seemed to snap his boyfriends out of their stupified state, and Killer was the first to shuffle closer to get a better look.

“Damn, babe,” Killer muttered softly, lightly poking at Nightmare’s left wing and observing the way it twitched and spasmed, causing Nightmare to flinch again and tense. Killer looked up sharply, and though there were no eye-lights to gouge just where he was looking, the king had the distinct feeling that Killer was glaring at him the way he did when Nightmare wasn’t properly taking care of himself. In response, the negative spirit groaned and dropped his skull face-down into his arms.

“Do you never take care of these things?” Killer began his lecture. “All the feathers are out of place and ruffled. It looks like a lot of loose ones are stuck. Do you ever groom these? Or stretch them? Are they just pinned down twenty-four seven?”

Nightmare remained silent.

The bed shifted, clueing Nightmare in on the fact Killer had probably flung his arms up. “Fuck’s sake!” Killer exclaimed, then sighed heavily. “Cross, Dust, you two handle that one, Horror, help me with this one.”

The bed moved again, and Nightmare hissed out a series of curses at the first touches to his wings, which jerked and shuddered in response to the light stimulation. Dust, Horror, and Cross all hesitated, but Killer wasn’t deterred. He worked his phalanges through Nightmare’s feathers, feeling out the ecto-skin underneath and getting a grip gentle yet firm enough to help extend the appendage. After a moment, Dust did the same with Nightmare’s right wing, while Cross and Horror focused on running their fingers through his feathers, untangling them and carefully removing loose ones.

His wings still hurt, aching sharply, but the negative spirit had to admit to himself how grateful he was for his boyfriends’ help. With a heavy sigh, he let himself relax, closing his socket and enjoying the feeling of his wings being preened and straightened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't fully know when my Bad Sanses Poly started leaving out Error lmao


	10. Sunshade Feathers AU [Bad Sanses Poly+Dream]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some random drabbles in an AU called Sunshade Feathers, where Nightmare and Dream can shift into small dragons.  
> Pretty much all fluff here.
> 
> Side note of the ships: Nightmare x Dream x Killer x Dust x Horror x Cross is the primary ship of the AU, although in these drabbles it isn't seen much as being a big cohesive poly (which it is). Error x Ink x Blue is a side-ship of the AU but isn't seen in the drabbles.

_Fuck,_ Nightmare thought as he stared down at his talons. _Goddamnit._

Narrowing his eye, he lifted his head to stare at his closed bedroom door. It was rather extravagant, and while it was very pleasing to look at, it would be an absolute _bitch_ to try to open in this form.

Because - and he didn't know why - he'd apparently shifted, and his dragon instincts were really craving some food. ...Chocolate, maybe.

Yeah. Chocolate.

The problem, of course, is how the _hell_ does he _get to the chocolate now?_ He can't shift back yet, and he's basically trapped inside his bedroom.

But he wants chocolate.

With a sigh, he spread his wings and jumped, clawing at the fancy, curving door handle. He missed several times, of course, scratching up the dark wood around the handle.

It took him twelve jumps before he finally opened the door.

He stared sorrowfully at the scratch marks littering the wood before he took off running downstairs.

On his way to the kitchen, he passed the living room. All of his boyfriends were there, minus Dream. Dust saw him running and chuckled, pointing at the blur that was his passing form. "Cross, Nightmare's after your chocolate again."

"FUCK!" Cross yelled, struggling to disentangle himself from the cuddle pile on the couch. (The others were definitely clinging to him on purpose, he knew.) By the time Cross bolted into the kitchen, Nightmare had dug out Cross's stash of chocolate and was happily munching on it, standing on the counter.

"NIGHTMARE!" Cross screeched.

The dragon looked up at him, hissed, and scraped the chocolate underneath his body. His wings spread and his feathers puffed out as he stared at the ex-guard. Cross glared back.

"Why do you fuckin' do this."

Nightmare hissed again.

* * *

Nightmare, apparently, had spent too much time in Underfell. Now he was probably going to be stuck in his dragon form for a few hours.

Well, that wasn't much of a problem. Mostly because he was running on instincts and couldn't actually see it as one.

In his current animalistic state, he really wanted to be with Dream. He didn't know why, and he didn't bother questioning it (not that he could anyway). He simply opened a sloppily made portal to the AU he could sense Dream's aura in and trotted through.

The Star Sanses were all sitting in an open meadow on a picnic blanket. Nightmare's nostrils twitched as he smelled the food inside their basket. Was there any chocolate?

...No, there wasn't.

Shame.

Dream, just a second after Nightmare's arrival, looked up sharply, going entirely silent and still. He stared at the dragon form of his brother unblinkingly. Nightmare lowered his head, respectfully quivering his wings. A few moments passed.

"What's he doing here?" Blue asked, and that seemed to snap Dream out of his Stare state. He blinked a few times, sitting back so his lap was easily accessible - recognizing the wild tint to his brother's aura.

Nightmare walked closer, then stopped a single pace away from Dream. His tail whipped side to side as he growled, then churred, then chuffed. Ink and Blue watched curiously as Dream huffed a sigh. "Fine," he told his brother, who churred again, the noise increasing in volume as Dream started to shift.

Once Dream's form solidified, Nightmare didn't hesitate to trot up to him, grab his scruff, and lay down. Dream twisted and squirmed, clicking his jaw unhappily until he was let go after being tucked against Nightmare's side.

Nightmare purred loudly, while Dream sent his friends an apologetic glance.

Blue and Ink squealed.

"Aaawww!"

* * *

The sounds of outraged, bird-like screeching filled the castle.

The bathroom door slammed open, and Dust stared for a moment at the scene before him.

The bathtub was filled with water, and Killer and Cross were trying to wrestle a shifted Nightmare into the bath. Judging by his overly animalistic protests and the slit of his pupil, Dust was tempted to guess he was rather feral-minded right now. Although, Dust mused as he crossed his arms over his chest, this could just be his only way to fight back while he couldn't shift into his skeleton form.

"Ehem," Dust said loudly in a mocking of clearing his throat. Cross and Nightmare both froze, the dragon's feathers fluffing up as he went into his Stare state; Killer took advantage of that to grab onto both of Nightmare's wings, pinning them against his sides so they couldn't smack Killer and Cross in the face anymore. That made Nightmare snarl, his fight kicking back up after deeming Dust as _not-a-threat_ while Cross blinked and tried to hold him still while sending several glances to Dust.

"So what th'fuck is happenin'?" Dust asked, nonchalantly leaning against the doorframe, struggling not to let his amusement show on his face.

"Ink told us of a time he and Blue tried to get Dream into a bath," Cross said, managing to get a grip on Nightmare's front legs - not without getting his arms and hands scratched up with sharp talons beforehand. "Killer thought it would be a good idea to try the same with Nightmare." And he nodded down at the squirming, screaming dragon, the _"And you can see how that's going"_ unspoken but clearly heard by all occupants of the room.

Killer didn't even attempt to look sheepish or anything, just sent Cross and Dust a knife-sharp grin. Cross sighed and grumbled something under his breath (not that anyone, even himself, could hear it over Nightmare's racket) while Dust rolled his eyelights.

He approached the dumbasses he called his boyfriends, and laughed at the scandalized expression on Nightmare's face when he helped Killer and Cross get him into the bathtub.

All three of them laughed at Nightmare's screams of bloody murder when his talons made contact with the water.


	11. His Bad Days [Dreammare]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Characters:** Nightmare, Dream, mentions of Killer, Dust, Horror, Blue, Error, and Ink  
>  **Ships:** Dreammare [Nightmare x Dream]  
> Nightmare doesn’t often have bad days, but when he does, they’re _bad_.  
> Luckily, he has his brother with him this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Trigger Warnings:** Heavy implications of past rape, panic attack, self-deprecation
> 
> * * *

For as long as he can remember, Nightmare has always been alone during his bad days. For the several hundred years he’s been corrupted, he’s had no one to turn to for comfort. When he started gathering together the Sanses from negative-leaning AUs, forming his Gang, his own pride as the self-proclaimed King of Negativity prevented him from reaching out to any of them.

  


_A part of his mind told him, convinced him, that they would turn on him if he were to attempt to talk to them. “They avoid you,” the darkest part of him whispered as he lay curled up in a long-since-instinctive protective ball on his bed. “They avoid you when your aura is fucked up. They are frightened. They are frightened of you, but they would not hesitate to use your weakness against you if they knew what was actually going on.”_

  


The decades passed, and he distinctly remembers that each day he finds himself feeling like shit, his aura an absolute mess and projecting out perhaps a bit more of his negative emotions than it should have been, he was always on his own, and he didn’t really know how to feel about this. It was, of course, totally warranted and a smart act for his Gang who shared less than half of a brain cell between all four of them ( _Nightmare can easily recall one time in particular that Dust and Killer had failed to flee from the kitchen in time when the negative spirit decided to pace around the castle instead of lock himself in his room; when they’d all left the kitchen, Killer had more than just an abundance of black liquid flowing from his empty eye sockets, Dust was much more twitchy and agitated than normal, and Nightmare was left both stronger from the negativity echoed back at him from the two murderers and feeling even worse than he’d been before, some strange kind of guilt worming its way into his conscience_ ), but it left Nightmare rather isolated and with a rapidly diminishing list of things he could do to avoid his emotions.

  


He’s not entirely sure of how it happened, but somehow, someway, he had managed to tentatively reconcile with Dream over the years. It was odd, difficult, and a bumpy rollercoaster of events, but after a while, he could say that their bond had returned even stronger than before.

  


His bad days were much less common after this, distant memories finally deciding to give him a break.

  


Unfortunately, he wasn’t lucky for long.

  


This time, though, he had his brother with him.

* * *

It had been a long time, several weeks at the least, since Nightmare had last found himself on his bed, curled into a tight protective ball with his tentacles shielding his body from any possible attacks, his form rather unstable, his goop quite drippy.

  


**“Fuck, fuck, fuck,”** he whispered to himself in a quiet mantra, his eye squeezed shut and tendrils quivering, attempting to fill the silence of his bedroom with any noise apart from the phantom sounds of memories centuries ago. The echo of pain ghosted over his body, and he could’ve sworn he felt the brush of mockingly gentle fingertips trailing up his legs. He jerked and curled tighter, his breathing heavy, throwing in a few extra colorful words to his soft chant. The magic in his socket burned, but Nightmare refused to let himself cry.

  


_Weak,_ his mind whispered to him, and he was too disoriented to be able to tell if the fleeting thought was his own or a remnant of the memories flashing by.

  


The seconds and minutes ticked by steadily, and Nightmare could very clearly feel himself worsening, something he noted distantly as odd; he was simultaneously in the middle of his panic attack and just outside of it, disconnected. It was much too difficult to breathe; his throat seemed to be clogged, and the sensation of fingers curling around his neck and squeezing was too strong and overwhelming. His body, just barely holding together his skeletal shell, was trembling harshly, and the tentacles not tucked firmly around him were poised above him, ready to lash out and defend himself.

  


Light-headed, dizzy, and almost entirely trapped in a too-vivid recollection of vulgar murmurs and sinfully wandering hands, he didn’t notice the small warmth of positivity gently pushing against a corner of his roiling aura or the soft call of his name from the door.

  


He _did_ notice when fingers that were too solid to be phantom sensations touched his shoulder. There was only good intent behind the action, but the gentleness was too reminiscent of the villagers. His whole body flinched away while two tentacles blindly struck at where the hand had been. They sliced through the air, never meeting their intended mark. His strained breathing hitched as he arched his spine, forcing himself to curl into a tighter ball than was comfortable, trying to protect himself from the assault that he was sure was to come.

  


_When he was obedient and pliant to their wishes, they went gentle on him. Fighting back only made them treat him roughly, so it was best if he just went limp and retreated deep, deep into his head as they handled his body however they wished._

_  
_

_Despite his best efforts, however, he couldn’t seem to dissociate enough to forget what they did to him._

  


His mattress shifted and dipped under an added weight, close enough for him to be aware of someone’s presence while far enough away that neither of them could touch each other. His panicked hyperventilating eased somewhat, and he forced himself out of his mind enough to open his eye and take in his surroundings.

  


His vision was blurry, and it took several blinks to get it to clear. Salty wetness slipped down his zygomatic bone.

  


_Weak,_ his mind repeated, tone snarly and aggressive. He did his best to ignore it as he focused his gaze on the person sitting next to him.

  


Dream had perched himself on the edge of the bed, his skull tilted away from Nightmare so that he wasn’t looking directly at the negative spirit. His mouth was moving, and it took Nightmare a few moments to be able to hear what he was saying.

  


“. . . -orror told me when I asked about your aura,” the positive spirit was saying, tone quiet and light. “None of them seem to know what causes this, but they know it means you’re in a bad mood. I wish I could’ve gotten here sooner, it seems like you really needed some company.”

  


He paused, inquisitive and knowing eye-lights flicking toward Nightmare’s single cyan one. He looked away just as quickly and kept talking, changing the subject. It was obvious he didn’t expect his brother to contribute, and Nightmare would be damned if he admitted how grateful that made him, though there was no doubt Dream could sense it, as tuned in to Nightmare’s emotions as he was, making sure his state didn’t worsen.

  


“Blue found out about a lamia AU. He was talking about it for hours, and I think even Ink was getting tired of getting his ears prattled off with random snake facts. He told him, not unkindly, to go find someone else who _actually_ wanted to know anything about snakes. I’m pretty sure Blue went to go find Error, because before I left, I saw the skies of Outertale as he was leaving.”

  


Dream continued to fill the silence with little tidbits of information about his day, then his week. The longer he talked, the more grounded and calmer Nightmare felt. Gradually, he uncurled from his ball, closing his eye for a moment as he sat up. His arms felt shaky, and he took a deep breath, cementing himself in his body and focusing on solidifying his shape.

  


All the while, Dream didn’t stop talking for more than a few seconds, and he respectfully averted his gaze more when his brother rubbed at his face.

  


**“Thank you,”** Nightmare whispered into the silence that Dream had paused in filling. The positive spirit smiled.

  


“Come here,” Dream invited gently, opening his arms to his brother. Nightmare hesitated for only a moment, firmly telling himself he didn’t have to fear Dream’s touch, shuffling closer so he could slot himself against Dream’s side. The guardian sighed and hummed a soft tune as he rested his head on top of his brother’s.

  
A wave of tiredness washed over the negative spirit as he got himself comfortable in Dream’s embrace. He’d been expecting to be exhausted after his panic attack and thought he would have passed out alone in his bedroom.

  


This outcome was much better, he thought sleepily before he drifted into unconsciousness.

  


Dream pressed a kiss to the top of Nightmare’s skull as he leaned the both of them back in the bed, closing his sockets to join his brother in sleep.


	12. Dream's Bath [No Ships]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Characters:** Ink, Blue, Dream  
>  **Ships:** None that are the primary focus of this drabble (this is Sunshade Feathers, though, so Ink and Blue ~~and Error, but he's not in this drabble~~ are dating)  
>  _. . . "Ink told us of a time he and Blue tried to get Dream into a bath," Cross said, . . ._ \- Chapter 10, Nightmare's Bath

_"C'mon, Dream!"_

"HSS!"

"Dream, look! See, the water is nice! It won't hurt you or anything!"

" _HSS_!"

 _"I don't-_ snrk- _think he's gonna want to get-_ ack! _-get in the bath willingly, Blue!"_

A sigh.

Dream hissed again. His wings were twitching from their flared positions; he probably would've been using them to smack his friends, but, well, he didn't want to dip down to Nightmare's level.

"Please, Dream?"

The dragon paused, his head tilting ever so slightly. He squirmed in Ink's arms to face Blue, his eyes narrowed. He lashed his tail (accidentally hitting Ink in the ribs, and he spared barely a breath to click his jaws apologetically) and stared at Blue with an unreadable expression before he grumbled and folded his wings, a clear sign of concession.

Blue grinned. "THANK YOU!"

Dream grumbled again, hissing softly in displeasure as he was lowered into the bathtub.


	13. Mweh-heh! [No Ships]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Characters:** Nightmare, Killer, Dust, Horror, Cross, vague mention of Blue ("a Swap!Sans")  
>  **Ships:** None that are the primary focus of this drabble; can be read as a Bad Sanses Poly, if ya squint  
> Nightmare's true laugh should definitely be the "mweh-heh-heh" of a Swap!Sans. >:)

The thing about having a body that was created as an exact copy of someone else's is that there are a lot of similarities between the two, obviously. One of these just so happened to be vocal cords.

For skeleton monsters, there were a lot of things they didn't have that humans did, or things that were changed in their anatomy. Whatever it was that controlled their voices, for one thing. There wasn't anything physical to create a resemblance between an original and a body-copy's voice, but their magic makeup would be very similar, allowing their voices or, at least, parts of their voices to match.

Nightmare's magic, of course, was its own unique thing. This only became more pronounced after consuming the negative apples, which drastically changed a lot about his magic. The base makeup of it, though, was very much the same.

It was easy to adjust his voice when he was focusing on it, and over time (centuries was a lot of time to properly form a habit out of something) it was basically second nature. There were moments he could slip, though, if he was relaxed enough. This was a pretty rare occurrence in and of itself, but it could happen. The way his voice sounded, at this point, couldn't change; his magic that controlled things like the tone, volume, and accent was already set in stone after hundreds of years. Things like his _laugh_ , however, had been less of a thing he needed to actively work on changing, because there wasn't much that could get him to really, truly laugh. The most he'd do is chuckle, or adjust his magic for a smooth, cold laugh reminiscent of a villain's, if the situation called for it.

It was at the kitchen table, eating dinner, that Nightmare learned his laugh could be an issue for him.

His boys were being their usual dumbass selves, cracking bad jokes and playfully pissing each other off. He's not sure who said it, but he found one of the things snapped was actually quite funny to him.

And, before he could think to stop it, the _Mweh-heh_ noise signature of a Swap!Sans slipped past his teeth.

Everyone at the table, including him, absolutely _froze_ in their seats. And, like something out of an embarrassment-centered bad dream, Nightmare's Gang slowly turned to face him.

**"S-shut the fuck up!"** he snapped before anyone could say anything, a bright cyan blush scalding his cheekbones. Killer, of course, was the first one to break, arms shooting down to clutch his midsection as full-on hyena cackles filled the dining room. Dust followed suit, curling over himself as he wheezed. Horror was chuckling, nowhere near as affected as those two but still amused, while Cross was trying to hide his grin.

"H-h-holy shi-hit, Boss," Killer gasped between his laughter. "D-do it again."

**" _Fuck off._ "**

He probably would've been much scarier if his blush hadn't been overtaking his face and traveling down his neck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~Psssst...I'm currently working on a 30-day OTP(s) challenge. I'm not sure how I'll be posting it yet, but keep an eye out!~~


	14. Tree [Bad Sanses Poly]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Characters:** Nightmare, Horror, Killer, Dust (mentioned)  
>  **Ships:** Bad Sanses Poly [Nightmare x Killer x Dust x Horror]  
> This is set in the future of [Sibilance](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27729646/chapters/67870831).

Nightmare sniffed at the air with his tongue, his slitted eyelight expanding slightly as he tasted the crisp autumn smells. Up here in this tree, the air was refreshingly clean and clear, scents spread out and uncloying on his senses. It was a nice change from in the castle, where he felt like he could barely open his jaws without chemical-smell coating his forked tongue.

  


Maybe in the past he'd appreciated Dust's insistence on keeping the place as clean as possible, but now it was just overbearing on his mouth. It was a nice escape to go out into the forest.

  


"Oi, boss! Are ya out here?"

  


...Even if he hadn't told his idiots he _was_ going out.

  


Settling his body down on the branch he'd temporarily claimed as his own, Nightmare turned his gaze from the sky down to the forest floor, searching for the distinct contrast of Killer's colors against the fiery hues of the woods. When he spotted the flicker of white, black, and blue, he grinned, shimmying his tail until it was draped over the edge of his branch, curling along the side of the tree's trunk like a proper snake. The pied black-and-cyan patterning stood out nicely against the rich brown, with the added bonus of acting as a beacon to his position.

  


_If only he would fucking look up,_ Nightmare thought drily as he watched Killer jog past his tree.

  


Huffing a sigh, Nightmare reached out to snap a small branch – barely big enough to not be considered a twig instead – off the trunk and threw it. It whizzed through the air, solidly hitting its mark on the back of Killer's skull.

  


" _Ow!_ Fuckin' bitch!"

  


Nightmare churred quietly, a sound that lilted in pitch frequently, his own version of a chuckle or a laugh.

  


"Found 'im," he heard Horror say. He flicked his tongue out, turning slightly to follow Horror's calm rosemary scent to where he'd first seen Killer.

  


"Next time, please don't throw a sharpened twig at my head!" Killer called up, trying his best to mask his amusement with irritation. And failing miserably, but Nightmare wasn't going to be the one to tell him that.

  


With a smirk, he flipped Killer the bird.

  


Horror snorted and shook his head. "Can ya please come down?"

  


Nightmare peered down at him, narrowing his socket in consideration.

  


_[Is Dust finished cleaning?]_ he signed.

  


"Err– No, he ain't, but we don' gotta go inside yet if ya don' wanna."

  


_Hmm._ He was rather enjoying his time up in his tree, but...

  


He huffed as he pushed himself up with his arms, carefully maneuvering his tail to grip onto the tree's trunk as he began his descent.

  


...he'd never tell a soul, but his largest mate was a _much better_ tree to climb and perch on.


End file.
